


Life Is A Video Game

by angelsandcastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:17:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandcastiel/pseuds/angelsandcastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a video game designer that hasn't finished his first game yet. He's fighting an uphill battle. The drugs are starting to really mess with his mind and he's addicted. He can't stand to live in such a miserable world. He's getting to the point where he doesn't know if he'll ever finish or if it's even worth it anymore. What's the point if no one cares?</p>
<p> Maybe what he needs is a little inspiration in his life.</p>
<p>Rating might change, depending on what I write.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

Castiel stared at the colorful vase-like contraption that sat on his desk. _Wow, look at those colors spinning_. He extended his hand and ran his fingers over the bong. The desk in front of him was littered with all sorts of paper and miscellaneous objects. There was everything from an old bag of chips to staplers on his desk. _Fuck_ , he thought, _I need to get back to making that game. Yeah,_ he turned away from the bong and went back to his computer. 

 

He'd spent what felt like an entire century building this idiotic game. What else could he do though? He really didn't have any skills or aspirations. He didn't really give a shit if he lived or died. _What if life is just a game and I'm always the loser?_ Unfortunately, the thing he always failed to notice was that he hadn't reached the point of no return - game over. He didn't really care, yes, but at the same time, he wasn't really going to just throw himself off a building and throw his life away. He could live with the torture. Someday, maybe, he could win at this stupid game. He wasn't really keeping his hopes up though.

 

The only reason that Gabriel let him live in his apartment was... well, they were family. They were the only family that each other had. Castiel certainly didn't have a job that could support him while he made his video game.

 

He spent over 14 hours a day building a game – or maybe more, depending on how bad his insomnia was. He wasn't building it to sell to a big corporation. He was kind of just going to release his game on a website for $10 a download. That was his plan.

 

_Demonic Tides_ was an epic game, at least, to the two people who had played it. Those two people were Gabriel and Sam, the only people he could trust with the game. He trusted Gabriel, obviously because he was his brother. He trusted Sam because Sam was the whole reason why his game was getting so much hype in the gaming world. Sam Winchester was one of the big names in online game reviews. Sam was also Gabriel’s best friend, so, yeah, Castiel trusted him.

  
  
He giggled as he typed in another line of coding on the screen. _They wouldn’t be expecting that cliff!_ He smirked. _I’m a genius. I’m a genius and no one will appreciate me until this game comes out…_

 

"Castiel? Are you here?"

 

Castiel couldn't help but let out another string of giggles. _What kind of question was that?_ He barely left the house. It’s not because he didn’t _want_ to leave the house, he just didn’t have the time to do so. He bit down on his lip as he looked over his shoulder, waiting for Gabriel to walk in.

 

"What's so funny, bro?" Gabriel popped his head into the office, "Dude, seriously? What did I tell you about smoking in here? The landlord is going to have a bitch fit."

 

He erupted into laughter, "Dude, who gives a fuck?"

 

Another sad realization that Castiel stumbled upon was that no one gave a flying fuck these days. Life was all about the wrong stuff – no one sat around and enjoyed the beauty in their backyard. It was all about whoever had the biggest yacht or the best Christmas cards…

 

"I do," Gabriel frowned, "And you know what? You're getting out of this apartment right now. I'm going to Sam's for a bonfire. You're coming. I can't leave you alone for an hour-" _blah de-fucking blah blah blah!_ Cas slid out of the rolling chair and down to the floor. _Oooh, hello beautiful,_ he rubbed his beard against the wood floors, _it's always nice to see you, butter banana._

__  
  
"Ugh, get up."

  
  
Cas’ hand stroked the floor, "I'll be back, my love," he said as he kissed it. _What a beautiful woman._ He jumped to his feet, "Okay! Ready!"

 

"God, Cas, you're a hot mess," Gabriel wrapped his arm around his younger brother's shoulder as he led him out of the messy office.

 

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel downed another bottle of beer. He couldn’t believe it. His brother didn’t even bother telling him. _Maybe it’s better this way. Two months without Gabriel on my ass for smoking or drinking or having sex_. That sounded a lot like freedom to Cas. Too much freedom. He would probably end up dead... Too much freedom was a bad thing, most definitely.

 

“You really should slow down, buddy,” the bartender frowned at him.

 

Castiel smirked at the man with dazzling green eyes, “Nah, I don’t think so. Thanks for the advice.” _I think I need another drink right about now._ He'd actually never been to this bar before and he felt like he'd be coming back more often. Not to see the gorgeous man, just to, you know, drink. That's what people do at bars. Drink.

 

“I’m just saying that you’re going to feel even shittier tomorrow than you do right now,” The bartender leaned against the counter.

 

Shivers raced up and down Castiel’s spine. He could feel his hair raise from the back of his neck. His eyes crawled up and down the man in front of him. Dean. His name tag said Dean. That must be his name. Yes, yes. Castiel averted his gaze back to the glossy wooden bar.

 

“Dean,” he shook his head with a smile, “You have no idea.”

 

“What’s on your mind?”

 

_You._ “I don’t feel obliged to share right now. I’d have to be _very_ intoxicated.”

 

Dean chuckled, “I know what you mean.”

 

Castiel shifted on the stool, feeling uneasy. It wasn’t because Dean was really bothering him. It was because Dean cared. Last he’d checked, no one cared about what he did. His own father didn’t even care if he lived or died - the man said so himself over the phone on countless occasions. Gabriel was the only one of his siblings that was even remotely close to him that sort-of cared.  


 

Anna and Michael had pushed him away after dropping out of Harvard. Steve Jobs didn’t go to college. Castiel didn't see the point in becoming a doctor. He wouldn't have any time to do what he actually liked doing instead of a high-paying job.

 

The green-eyed man continued to stare at him.

  
“Right,” Cas pulled out his wallet and threw down some cash. He didn’t bother saying goodbye to Dean before getting onto his feet and stumbling out of the dark bar.

* * *

The phone rang once, twice, three times. Castiel grumbled as he sat up in his bed, picking it up off the receiver.  
  


"Hello?"  
  


"Hey, Cas! We landed in Paris. I just remembered something though. I asked Sam's brother to swing by and check on you."  
  


"When?"  
  


The line went dead. Cas groaned as he dragged himself over to his computer. It was going to be one long day of finishing this stupid game. _Demonic Tides._ He was so close to the finish line that he could almost feel it.  
  


"Uh, hello?"  
  


Cas jumped, turning slightly.  
  


Sure enough, the bartender, Dean, from last night was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at him. Cas felt heat rise to his cheeks. Of course Sam's brother would be Dean, just his luck. Thank God he hadn't spilled his guts to the man the night before.  
  


"What the hell?" Castiel frowned, "How the fuck did you get in?"  
  


"Gabriel."  
  


Castiel scratched his head. Just then, a man he didn't recognize came strolling out of his bedroom. _Who the fuck..._ The tall, blonde haired man smirked at Cas as he approached. _Fuck, what happened last night? Was I really that drunk to bring someone home?_

A pair of arms encircled his waist, "Good morning, Cassie," the man said as he leaned forward, planting a kiss on his lips.

 

Cas blinked for a moment and then he started to remember a bit. He'd met Balthazar because of Lucifer, the guy he bought weed from. Balthazar was one of his workers. And last night, Cas had bought a lot of weed...The night was still blurry in his memory though. For some reason, he could only remember lighting his bong, laying in his bed, and seeing Balthazar's face. That was really all he remembered.

 

"Balthazar," he said vaguely, his eyes wandering around his face.

  
"Oh! You didn't tell me you were having company!" Balthazar smiled.

 

"I'll be back later," Dean said briskly. He stood from the table and made his way towards the door, "Work." He slammed the door as he left.

 

"Well, he was rather touchy," Balthazar laughed, "So, Cassie, how about you get that sexy little ass back into bed?"

 

"I have to get back to working on my game," he frowned. As much as he would like to have sex right at that second, he wasn't willing to admit that he wanted to have sex with Balthazar. _What a mistake_ , "Another time?"

 

"Of course, gorgeous," he leaned closer to Cas' face. His lips hovered by the other man's ear as he whispered, "Just remember who had you screaming all of last night. You have my number."

 

He slinked out the door of Cas' place without another word.

 

_What the hell just happened?_

* * *

Castiel popped the finished disc into his Xbox. Finally, his masterpiece was complete. _Demonic Tides_. He smirked as he waited for the game to load.  _Might as well smoke a bit while I wait._ He picked up his bong and lighter. He held the lit flame by the glass object and the weed began to make a white-colored smoke. He inhaled all of the smoke from the tube, holding his breath. _Fuck_ , he thought as he exhaled. Whatever Balthazar had sold him last night was a way better batch than what he was used to. He could already feel his head buzzing after one hit.

 

Just then, someone tapped lightly on his door. _What now?_

He decided to ignore it as he took another hit. And another hit. He was feeling like he was floating with only three hits. I guess that was one benefit of sleeping with Balthazar.

 

"Do you know how to answer the door?" a dark voice caused him to jump, "Or at least lock it?"

 

Cas blinked as he turned on the couch. Dean.

 

"Yeah."

 

"I - uh - brought you some food from the Roadhouse," Dean offered lamely, dropping a brown paper bag on the kitchen table.

 

Castiel stood and rushed over to the kitchen table. He smiled, "Thanks, Dean."

 

Dean frowned, "Sure."

 

Castiel couldn't help but look in the bag and find a delicious cheeseburger. _Damn,_ he thought as he pulled it out of the bag. He sat down on a chair and took a bite, moaning. He hadn't eaten all day. He was so desperate to finish his game, he just couldn't help but skip a meal... or two.

 

"What are you playing?" Dean said as he wandered over to Cas' couch. He sat down and stared, first at the game screen, but then, something else caught his eye. Cas' eyes followed Dean's to the bong on the table. Dean's nose crinkled up.

 

"Oh, uh, it's my own game. I just finished it."

 

"Seriously? You made this?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"How?"

 

Castiel rolled his eyes, "Using my computer?"

 

"Seriously?"

 

"Yes?"

 

Dean picked up the controller, "Sam has been trying to get me to play video games forever. It's not my thing..." And Dean started playing. He played through the tutorial rather quickly. Cas frowned as he walked back over to the couch. _Perhaps, I should add a longer tutorial._ He zoned out, trying to figure out a way to improve his tutorial. _Add a jumping tutorial? That's far too simple._ He couldn't figure one out, even after thinking for a good ten minutes.

 

"How the fuck do you beat this level?!" Dean growled.

 

Cas lit up the bong and took another hit, "I can't tell you. That wouldn't be fair," his knee knocked into Dean's unintentionally as he placed the bong back on the table.

 

Dean glanced over at him, "How are you so calm when you're stoned out of your mind?"

 

Cas shrugged. He honestly had no idea why he felt so at ease. Usually, he'd be making out with anything that had a mouth, hell, even things without mouths. He didn't understand why his body told him to relax.

 

"Used to it. Want some?"

 

"No," Dean said, firmly.

 

"Okay."

 

Dean paused the game, "Where's Balthazar?"

 

"Do I look like his mom? How should I know? Why should I care?"

 

"I just thought you guys were a thing."

 

Castiel roared with laughter. Him and Balthazar a thing? That was the most ridiculous thing he'd heard in a long time, "He's just for fun. You know."

 

Dean stood from the couch, "Right. Well, I need to get home."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because I'm fucking exhausted from working."

 

"Why don't you just stay in Gabriel's room?"

 

"Why don't I? Because, Cas, I have other things in my life that I have to deal with."

 

"Oh..."

 

And for the second time that day, Dean stomped out the door, leaving Castiel rather confused. _What did I do wrong?_

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Shit," Castiel laughed as he took another swig of beer, "Is that really what happened?"

 

"Well, of course," Balthazar smiled as he shook his head, "So, why did you want to meet me here anyways?"

 

Castiel blinked as he stared at the bottle in his hands. He moved it back and forth on the wooden table in the corner of the Roadhouse. He didn't have the heart to tell Balthazar that the only reason he wanted to hang out with him was because of the attractive bartender across the room. _Dean_. Just thinking his name was enough to make him smile and respond, "Can't a guy take another guy out for a drink and not be questioned?"

 

Balthazar shrugged, "I've never been here before, that's all."

 

"Gabriel used to take me," he waved his hand as he spoke. He could feel eyes on his back and secretly, he was hoping that Dean was looking. He turned slightly and noticed a blonde woman standing next to Dean, talking rather animatedly. She was staring at Castiel. His stomach grumbled as a wave of nausea washed over him. He turned back to Balthazar, "Could you excuse me for a moment?"

 

"Sure."

 

Castiel slid out of the booth and staggered across the busy bar to the bathroom. He stumbled through the door, nearly knocking himself out on the wall in the small bathroom. He sighed as he played with his hair, looking at the mirror. No matter how many times he tried to move it back into place, it seemed to have a mind of it's own. 

 

He gripped the bathroom sink as he stared at his face in the mirror.

 

Something felt wrong.

 

His heart was pounding, like he ran for miles without stopping. It pounded like there was an invisible weight pressing down on it. He took in deep breaths to collect as much oxygen as he could. He blinked a few times as he tried to understand why his body was reacting in such a strange way. It's not like he had never gotten high and drunk in the same night. For some reason, his stomach churned and protested. Why? His vision was spattered with bright white stars.

 

He couldn't keep his eyes open. He felt his weight collapse as he fell to the floor. He blinked once before completely passing out.

 

* * *

"No, I'm telling you, he's out fucking cold. Sam, what do I do? Can you ask Gabriel if this has ever happened before?"

 

Castiel groaned loudly as he wiggled to get comfortable. He could feel the ground underneath his body moulding and shaping to his body as he moved. Someone must be pretty damn rich.

 

"I didn't sign up for this fucking bullshit. He blacked out at the bar and then I had to beg Jo to cover my shift while I dragged him home."

 

There was an unnerving silence and the shutting of a cell phone. Castiel squirmed again. He finally opened his eyes. _I've never been in this room._ _Where am I?_ He shifted on the bed as he glanced around the large room. On the table next to the bed, he saw a picture of Dean with a woman and a young boy. They were all smiling like there had never been a happier moment in their lives. Cas stared at that photo. He'd never seen Dean smile like that.

 

"Castiel? You up?" he heard Dean's deep voice coming closer. He looked up and his eyes met with a sparkling set of green ones, "What the fuck were you thinking?"

 

Castiel frowned, "What do you mean?"

 

"You come into the bar completely high, order a bunch of drinks with blondie, and then pass out in the bathroom. Is this an episode of Jersey Shore or am I missing something?"

 

"I don't know what that is."

 

Dean rolled his eyes, "Not the point, Cas. What are you doing to yourself?"

 

Cas shrugged, "It doesn't matter."

 

Dean sat down on the bed, "It matters."

 

"No, it doesn't."

 

Dean shifted, "What the hell is wrong with you? Don't you get it? You're throwing your life away. There are so many things to live for in this world that you just haven't found yet," he lightly brushed his thumb along Cas' cheek. He removed his hand and stood from the bed, "Gabriel decided that you can't stay alone. You're stuck with me for the next two months. And rule number one in my house is no smoking," Dean smiled as he left the room.

 

Cas could have sworn he heard the sound of glass shattering. It took him a few minutes to realize that there was glass shattering. He ripped the blankets off the bed and rushed out of the room. His head pounded. He stumbled down the dark hallway into the living room. He saw Dean standing in a rainbow of broken glass. It was everywhere. Glass all over the floor. Castiel stopped where he was. _No, he couldn't have..._

"Did you smash my bong?" Castiel shouted, "What the fuck, man?"

 

Dean looked up from the glass, "It's for your own good."

 

"Fuck you," Cas spat as he retreated back into the bedroom. He flopped down on the mattress, feeling so defeated. _I need a hit. I need it so bad._ But why would Dean go through the effort of getting the bong from his house and bringing it here just to smash it? Why didn't he just throw it in the garbage can?... 

 

_So I couldn't use it again. Smart._

Cas groaned. He'd have to buy another one. Not that money would be an issue. In the last two days, his game had made over $100,000. He could easily go out and buy another bong _._ _Well, fuck._

* * *

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Dean could feel his heart pumping his blood wildly through his body. He couldn't get angry or he would do something stupid and regret it. So he exhaled through his nose, counting back from ten as slowly as he could. _What an ungrateful, little, sexy-as-fuck idiot!_ He just had to smash the bong. He had to do it because he couldn't take it any longer. He hated to see someone act so carelessly with their life. He gulped back whiskey straight from the bottle. Six swallows and he still wasn't feeling anything. Maybe that's why Cas wasn't bothering to live. He couldn't feel anything.

Dean snorted. He just wished he couldn't feel a damn thing too.

 

He had learned a long time ago just how important life was. He still had nightmares about the fire. He could see the vivid images of his mother's night gown, the flames crawling from her ankles up to her mid section. She screamed at John, Dean's father, for help. John stood there looking at her. He couldn't do anything at that rate. The fire was moving too quickly.

 

"Take your brother outside as fast as you can - don't look back. Now, _Dean_! Go!"

You can be there in a moment and gone the next. That's what Dean learned. The hard way.  


It hurt him to see a guy like Castiel doing it to himself...   


Dean took a swig from the bottle of whiskey. It was empty though.  


_Why was Cas with that blonde dude anyways?_ He slid the bottle between his legs as he thought about it. He said Balthazar was a one time thing but then runs into the bar with him a few nights later? What did it matter though? Dean threw the drained whiskey bottle against the wall. It smashed on impact. _Great, something else I have to clean up._  


_  
_"Dean?"

Dean didn't move from the couch. He wasn't sober. He wasn't. He wasn't going to do something he regretted.

Castiel sat down next to him, "Hey, are you okay?" he said.

  
Dean groaned as he stared at the shimmering blue eyes. They were crystal clear, like a river. _Seriously? Am I that gay?_ That's when he realized that he was, infact, that gay for Cas. His eyes moved to Castiel's soft-looking pink lips. _I wonder if he tastes as good as he looks._ He swiped his tongue across his own lips.  


"Dean?" Castiel rested his hand on Dean's knee, "What's wrong?"  


_Everything._ "Nothing."  


Castiel rubbed his hand around Dean's kneecap, again and again, "Are you sure?"  


Dean could feel his heart pounding again, but for a whole lot of different reasons. He certainly wasn't angry anymore... it was more of the opposite. Dean moaned with the little air he had in his lungs. He grabbed Cas' hand and moved it higher on his thigh. He thought he was going to make a coherent statement, but with all the haze in his head, all he could answer was, "Cas."  


Just as Dean released Cas' hand, Castiel pulled away. His face lit up with a bright red tinge, "Doorbell."  


Dean sighed as stood. _Of course, someone has to rain on my fucking parade._ He trudged over to the door, trying to adjust himself to hide the tent in his pants. It didn't exactly work because it just made his vision go black. Having his hands running over his sensitive dick was too much. He huffed as he opened the door.  


"Dean!" at the front door was Garth. _Great timing, neighbor._   


He grunted, "What?"  


"Uh, do you have a screwdriver? I think I lost mine and I don't think that any of the stores around here are open now. I mean," he chuckled, "You know, it's almost ten thirty at night."  


"Garth. Go home. Get some rest," Dean said. _Go home, go home, go home. Please_.  


"Well, uh, oh, you have company?" the shrimpy-guy perked up and pushed past Dean.  _Well, there that goes._ "Well, who is this little fella?! Isn't he adorable! What's your name?"  


Cas blinked at Garth.  


Dean almost swore that he saw Cas go white. What the fuck?  


"Cas. Now, as I was saying, Garth, I think it's time you left," Dean was getting grumpier by the minute. He wasn't getting laid. That would make any sex-deprived man pretty pissy. Dean grabbed Garth by his bicep and dragged the man out of the living room. He didn't stop there, he dragged the man all the way across the street, back to his house.  


He scoffed as he turned and left Garth standing on his doorstep, completely dumbfounded.  


"Fuck," Dean spat as he crossed the threshold of his own home. He slammed the door.  


Castiel jumped from the couch.  


Dean could almost feel his whole body go soft at Castiel's reaction. _Damn, he's so jumpy_. "Sorry," he said. He immediately walked over to Castiel, wrapping his arms around the man, "Sorry."  



End file.
